Rocky
by emerald1198
Summary: "What a Freak Show, huh?  Doctor Doom, Fashionista . . . and Calico Woman."  The table erupts in snickers.  Adam Torres, perched on his throne in Degrassi's oligarchy, doesn't even crack a smile.


**Oh, Clare. She's spiraling downward at a dangerous rate, isn't she, folks? Aw, well – not much I can rant about until the _real_ mental break-down next week.**

**One-shot – because that's all I can seem to commit to nowadays! Yay!**

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Imogen Moreno is wearing cat ears today.

That's the first thing he sees when he takes the seat next to Dave in the cafeteria, lunch bag in hand. Next to her, Fiona Coyne is applying lip-gloss. Not lip stick. She doesn't do lip stick – it's tacky.

Across from them both, Eli is scribbling frantically on a notepad. He pauses occasionally, flicking his pen back and forth in a rage of writer's inspiration.

Mo Mashkour waves his fork at the table Adam's gaze has settled on. "What a Freak show, huh?" He sneers, "Fashionista, Doctor Doom . . . and _Calico Woman_." Dave snorts into his milk carton, mid-gulp, and K.C. and Owen chortle. Marisol and Katie both let out a small giggle, Katie stifling hers when she realizes Drew hasn't even cracked a smile.

Apart from Adam, his brother and, oddly enough, Bianca DeSousa, are the only ones to remain silent.

Adam doesn't remember when he started sitting at this table. In the beginning, it was only Dave and K.C., along with the occasional company of Wesley and Connor. His brother sat with him one day, though, bringing with him what seemed to be the entire football team – and their girlfriends. Adam knew he ought to taken advantage of the opportunity to befriend the "popular crowd's" primary representatives, but often times, he felt more alone than he had when it was just the original three inhabitants of the table.

The original three, he thinks.

They weren't K.C., Dave, and himself. No, even the two basketball players came long after his first real friends at Degrassi. One of them, he cringes to realize, is the object of their cruel jokes right at this very moment.

Doctor Doom. Fitz called Eli that once. It was during the short period of time that Adam had fallen under some sort of illusion that the two were friends, the short period of time in which Adam had abandoned Eli and been taken under the wing – or so he thought – by the school's rebel. They had all been crowded around a table at the Dot, exchanging colas and jokes at Eli's expense. A girl with dark-rimmed eyes, pigtails, and polka-dotted nylons had thrown a scornful glance across the café directly into Adam's startled eyes that day. For a moment, his laughter had died down –only to crescendo again when he received a friendly nudge from Fitz to his right.

Now, that polka-dot nylon girl is sitting across from Eli, twirling her pigtail and making dark-rimmed googly eyes at him. And Adam – well, he's three tables away, surrounded by petty gossip and people whose company he's not even sure he appreciates anymore.

Even Drew is holding back laughter now when Mo makes a comment about Morty, Eli's "deceased" hearse. Bianca frowns and twirls a carrot in Ranch Dressing. The gesture would have puzzled Adam. At this time last year, Bianca DeSousa would've been the first person to guffaw at these cruel jokes, but since the shooting at Prom, she's been different – not only towards Adam, but to everyone. And, yet, there're always times when her sarcasm stings.

Adam, even from day one, has never been sure what to make of the girl.

He doesn't even understand where her place is at this table. Her presence – besides making all the boys here, including Drew if Adam's not mistaken, drool – is only causing Katie's face to flush with jealousy.

Now, the group is mimicking a cat. _"Meow,"_ Mo is sputtering out between snickers.

And then the unthinkable happens – the climax of any cheesy high school drama film. Bianca hisses, low and stern. "Shut up."

The whole table falls silent; even Mo is thrown a curve at her sudden hostility. There's a glimmer of awe in Drew's eyes, one that, if Adam is right, may very well be in admiration.

"Since when did you become BFF's with the circus performer?" Marisol snears, earning more smirks and scoffs from the others.

"I think her outfits are cool," Adam blurts out, and before he can take the instantaneous words back, six pairs of wide eyes are trained on him, most in disbelief – probably that the quiet junior at the end has dared even contribute to the conversation, let alone defy it – Mo's in anger, and Bianca's in appreciation.

He almost hides his face. What was he thinking, speaking against these people? He's a trangender kid who spends his weekends cutting comic strips out of magazines and battling against strangers when World of Warcraft is deserted by his friends – who, no doubt, are out at Degrassi parties that he has no interest in attending. Yet somehow, Adam Torres, with his charisma and a little help from his quarterback brother, has landed himself a place in Degrassi's oligarchy. It's more than any kid with even one of the deficiencies Adam possesses could ever hope for – and still, here he is, defending three nonconformists who inhabit the very bottom level of the high school hierarchy.

Drew darts a warning look at him. _Shut up_, it says.

Adam, as reality tumbles back to him, shrugs under the eyes of the other five teenagers. "I mean, c'mon," he forces a masculine edge into his voice, "You've got to admit, Imogen Moreno's pretty hot."

Katie and Marisol roll their eyes, but Adam huffs in relief as he realizes Mo is grinning. He waves his fork – now piercing through a hunk of dry beef – at Adam. "Torres is right," he agrees before shoving the meat into his mouth. Mo continues before swallowing, causing Adam to wrinkle his nose and look away, "Imogen Moreo – in that dress she wore to that one party – looked sexy as hell."

Owen nods, smirking before letting out a sneer. "Too bad she's skinny as a rail. If Mo ever got with her, he'd crush her."

_"Meow,"_ Dave mimics the cliché sound effect of a startled cat.

The table erupts into snickers, and Mo scowls at Owen.

"Doesn't matter anyway," Mo shoots back, "She's already engaged to Goth Boy. I bet she'll look like Frankenstein's bride for their wedding." A new round of laughter shakes the table. Adam tenses.

K.C. Guthrie chuckles only for a moment before glancing sideways at the others to make sure none are giving any attention to his side of the table. He leans down and mutters into Adam's right ear. "See, Mo only makes fun of them because he knows that, if he doesn't, all the jokes will be about his weight." As if he never said a word, K.C. looks back up and joins the laughter once more.

Adam knows that K.C. expects him to appreciate this reassurance, but instead, it only makes Adam resent the basketball jock more than he did before he knew that not all of K.C.'s sneers were genuine. Something sparks inside of the junior, and he shakes his head at K.C. whose eyebrows ascend in surprise. Adam scoffs. "And you laugh right a long with them because you know that, if you don't, the jokes will be about _you_."

The accusation is loud enough that it attracts the attention of Drew across the table; however, the rest of the teenagers continue to smirk at Mo who is now targeting Fiona.

K.C. is startled, but his countenance – parted lips and cautious eyes – reveals nothing along the lines of shame. Adam can label it with only three words.

_Don't we all?_

In those syllables, Adam realizes that as much as he resents K.C.'s phony snickers, his own silence is no better. This time, Drew's warning only fuels the flame K.C. ignited, and, before he can stop his limbs, Adam has gathered his lunch, stood, and taken a few steps towards the table where Eli Goldsworthy is still scribbling furiously in his notebook. However, he makes the mistake of turning back to face the enemies.

Drew's jaw is clenched. His eyes blaze into Adam's for a moment before he finally shakes his head and turns away. The Torres brother remains seated.

The rest of the group is merely confused – excepting K.C. who just looks down, prodding a strawberry with his fork.

Mo Mashkour is the first to have the revelation, and, when he does, there is no anger that seeps into his features as one would expect. Instead, the boy's eyebrows pull upward, his jaw clenching, and his eyes questioning – no, _offering_. Unlike the others, Mo is not perplexed. He knows.

And he's giving Adam one last chance.

_Pretend you're throwing something away,_ his eyes seem to utter, _and I'll pretend the same. No hard feelings._

Adam bites his lip, huffing, and his foot takes an involuntary step towards the garbage can in the far corner. Mo's lips part into the slightest of approving smirks, and a pang of fury jolts through Adam. He takes back his step.

K.C. glances sideways at Adam, and for a moment Adam thinks, from the torn expression on his face, that K.C. might join him. Instead, the basketball player just exhales heavily, tossing Adam an apologetic shrug.

Drew stands, and Adam's heart leaps. His brother takes a few hesitant steps towards Adam, and the disbelief in Mo's eyes is enough to make a full-out grin break over Adam's face.

It's washed away instantly when the stressed eyes of Drew fade into sadness. "I – I, um, have to make a phone call. " He brushes by Adam, and doesn't look up once as he weaves his way through the bustling cafeteria. He passes Eli's table. And continues on to the door.

The smirk of satisfaction is back on Mo's face, though a new twinge of impatience lurks beside it. _What's it gonna be, Torres?_ Mo is demanding.

One step back towards the table, and a girl shoots up from the other end. Bianca DeSousa moves to stand beside Adam, and, before Mo can even attempt to offer her the same option he is Adam, she states bluntly, "I'm going to sit with Imogen." She doesn't allow Adam to catch her eye when she turns and starts for the table.

"Me, too," Adam finally agrees.

Everyone at the table is shocked, but Mo merely chuckles. "I wouldn't blame you. Like you said, she's hot."

Adam is taken aback for a moment. Has he misinterpreted Mo's signals? But he realizes a split second later that this is one final chance to amend his words, to save his place in the oligarchy. "No," Adam says with conviction, "because Eli's my friend."

With that, Mo swallows hard. Strike three.

Adam doesn't mind him, though. Instead, he turns and moves toward the people he's longed to be with for – what he now realizes – countless lunch periods. It isn't until he's a few steps into his confident path that a new fear seeps into him.

Will they accept him? After abandoning Eli, replacing him with people of higher social status and even listening to them downgrade him, Adam knows that his former best friend has every right to send him away.

Where would that leave him? Surely, if he possessed one ounce of self-respect, he would not drag himself back to the table he has broken away from; the idea makes his stomach churn.

And ever since Clare began dating Jake Martin, he hasn't spoken a word to her. He's not even sure where she eats lunch anymore. And he's not up for eating with Wesley and Connor in the lab. All the science jargon spewing from their lips is already making Adam's mind spin.

These frantic thoughts are streaming through his brain when two warm words sound beside him. "Hey, Rocky." With the name come memories of the day Fitz's true colors were revealed to Adam, the ones Eli had seen all along. Blinded with fury that day, Adam had taken for granted Eli's willingness to lend him a hand – but now he's seeing clearly.

Eli hasn't called him this since that unforgettable day; it's no coincidence. He's sure as he looks hesitantly down into the warm eyes of his best friend that with this greeting comes a deeper message.

_Welcome back_, he's saying.

Adam Torres doesn't deserve it, but Eli Goldsworthy will always take him back.

As he takes a seat across from her, Fiona Coyne gives him a curious look, hesitant in the wake of their past differences. The truth is, though, Adam has long given up on trying to resent Fiona. He realized months ago that he was nothing but happy for her now, pleased that she had accepted who she was. And with that revelation came the one that there were no more scowls left to direct at the girl.

He smiles warmly, and her eyes light up.

Imogen Moreno beams and pierces a ravioli with her fork. "You made the right choice, Young One," she says, her voice mockingly ceremonial.

At first, he's sure this is just one of her odd jokes, her way of welcoming him. And then he sees the light behind her eyes, the knowingness. Imogen Moreno is observant.

He tosses her a grin, because he knows she's right.

Over Imogen's shoulder, he catches sight of Clare sitting alone in the corner. She's looking at their table, has seen Adam transfer – and she directs her sight away quickly when she realizes Adam has noticed her.

Is Jake here at school today? Yes, Adam is sure he is; he saw him in Woodshop. That's when he realizes that the plaid jacket usually wrapping its arm around Clare's shoulder is located at a table across the room, between Jenna Middleton and another boy from Physics class.

He slips his phone from out of his pocket and hesitates. Would it be right to invite Clare Edwards, Eli's ex-girlfriend and Imogen's former arch nemesis ("former" since they haven't crossed paths in months and Adam's sure it wouldn't be a bad guess to say that Jenna has currently reclaimed that position) to accompany them at the table.

He glances up, looking to ask permission from the others, unsure if the words will actually come – and he meets eyes with Imogen once more.

She nods, and, this time, he's not surprised that she is on the same page.

Moments later, a lonely girl, crumbling with all the blows her values and self-respect have taken is standing, hesitantly taking a step toward Adam's table. On her phone read three simple words.

_Sit with us._

And, when he sees the decision made in her eyes and the more confident step taken, Adam realizes that maybe things will someday – very soon, if he's lucky – be like the old times. It won't be just the three of them anymore. No, Fashionista, Calico Woman, and whatever the name Mo Mashkaur would invent for Bianca have now joined the group.

But perhaps, things could be better now. In fact, Adam _knows_ things are better.

And there's one plus to all of this that makes Adam beam, stifling a chuckle. He's definitely not the strangest of the bunch anymore.

Because Adam may be a boy trapped in a girl's body, but one thing is for certain – he'll never be able to compete with Imogen's cat ears.

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**Well, I'm not sure at all where this came from. I love Dave and Adam's friendship, I do, but sometimes, I wander how much Adam even talks to Eli anymore. This clearly is not completely compatible with the reality of the show right now. However, I'd find it hard to believe that, with the people he's hanging with nowadays, Adam hasn't faced at least one cruel joke targeting "Doctor Doom." **

** Leave a review if you have the time – they make my day.**


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